


Rattle the Cage

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Series: No Matter Where You Are [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alien Technology, Aliens, Captivity, Competency, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dimension Travel, Escape, First Meetings, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Prompt Fic, Science Fiction, Time Travel, Undercover, Unethical Experimentation, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha finds Gaila imprisoned in a HYDRA lab.  Her cover doesn't last very long after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rattle the Cage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LemonScience33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonScience33/gifts).



> This ficlet was written for [geiszlerandgaila](http://geiszlerandgaila.tumblr.com), in response to the prompt: _Gaila/Natasha Romanoff (Trek/MCU), undercover. :)_ It has been slightly revised from the version on my journal.

"So how soon until you bring these rotten fungus-eaters down?" the green alien asked brightly -- _in Russian_ \-- as Natasha unlocked the door and pushed her cart into the lab where one of Strucker's rogue lieutenants kept his prized acquisition.

Natasha blinked in perfectly simulated incomprehension. "I don't speak alien, sweetheart. Now hush up and let me do my damn job." She pulled a synthetic rag and a spray bottle of bubblegum pink chemical cleaner out of her cart and set them on a desk, then bent to retrieve the wastebasket and empty it into her trash bin.

"Oh, please," the alien said, crossing her legs neatly as she perched, stark naked, on the thin, narrow mattress wedged into the corner of her cage. "You can fool them, but you can't fool me. Your pheromones are all out of whack for your words and your body language is too smooth to be natural. You're here undercover, and I'd bet half of Starfleet that you're not trying to grab me for your own ethically bankrupt lab. So how soon until you make your move?"

Natasha sprayed the rag with the cleaner -- cheap shit, smelled way too much of ammonia -- and swished it vaguely across the banks of ominous-looking equipment. "Still don't speak alien, honeybunch. But you've got an okay voice. You wanna play songbird, be my guest -- just keep it to a dull roar."

The alien laughed. "I'm not actually speaking whatever language you're hearing, you know. I was testing my sworn sister's subcutaneous translator chip when the dimensional anomaly hit our ship and now it's acting practically supernatural. You're hearing your first and deepest language, which is obviously something you're pretending not to understand, and _that_ means if this room had audio pickups, you'd have blown your cover wide open by now." She grinned, cheerful and toothy in Natasha's peripheral vision. "But hey, no hard feelings! I'm not going to rat out the first chance of help I've seen in ages. If you can get me a few minutes alone with those computers, I guarantee I can shut down their whole security system."

"And then what?" Natasha said in the same dismissive tone as before, no hint in her expression or actions showing that she'd switched to Mandarin Chinese.

"And then we get the hell out of here and hopefully you hook me up with some slightly less antiquated technology so I can signal my ship to rescue me from your era and reality," the alien said without missing a beat, her words still reaching Natasha's brain as Petrograd-accented Russian. "No offense, but the hospitality _stinks_."

"I don't work for free," Natasha said.

The alien snorted. "Psssh, try that on someone who can't read you like an open book. I'm not going to double-cross you. I'm not going to hand out futuristic technology like candy either -- there are laws against that, in my world and time -- but if I get a little careless and let a few hints slip... well, nobody but us ever has to know, right?"

Natasha finished her dusting and returned the synthetic rag and spray bottle to her cart. She lifted the mop from its bucket, wrung out the excess water, and began to swipe it over the floor.

"Do time units convert?" she asked.

"Federation Interstellar is based on Terran Standard units," the alien said. "I'm Gaila of House Amet, by the way. I don't know if you care, but it's polite to introduce yourself to a temporary out-net partner, and it's not like you have access to any network where you could look me up."

"A guard will check on you in twenty-six minutes," Natasha said as she shoved the mop into a corner and twisted it to pick up a stubborn dust bunny. "I'll come back ninety seconds after he leaves. I can loop the cameras for three minutes, but after that the failsafe will kick in."

"Five would be better, but I can work with three," the alien said. "And hey, bring some clothes? I don't mind, but I know Terrans are weird about nudity."

"I'll do better. I'll bring you a gun." Natasha wrung her mop out again and looked around the room with the bored eye of a janitor who has spent far too much time on her feet to care about doing more than the bare minimum. "You can call me Natalie."

"Not your real name, but close enough, and pretty, too. Natalie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," the alien said, and leaned back on her mattress like she didn't have a care in the world. "See you in twenty-five and a half minutes."

Natasha swiped her ID card over the electronic lock and maneuvered her cart out through the door.

She didn't look back once.


End file.
